


Better

by chipsandwaffles



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Trans Simmons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 06:31:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2458298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chipsandwaffles/pseuds/chipsandwaffles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a reason Simmons wears a shirt when everyone else isn't wearing one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea for a while, and it came out longer than I expected. Enjoooy.

"What do you mean you can't swim?" Simmons shrugs and looks down at the ground. Eye contact was hard, especially with his gym teacher. It'd be fine if she wasn't intimidating and looked at him with some sort of respect, but she didn't really do that when kids in her class didn't listen.

"Either you swim, or I fail you." Simmons looks up to plead with her but his words catch in his throat. He wants to tell her; to say something about it but he can't and he won't. He backs away from her and heads over to the wall, sitting down and pulling his knees to his chest.

Simmons would berate himself later about failing a class, but he didn't care right now. He was too scared to tell the teacher; too afraid of getting yelled at by his parents. If his dad found out, he'd be in even worse trouble then just failing a class.

The class goes slowly for Simmons. When the gym teacher tells the kids to hit the showers, he immediately runs off to his next class, hoping to avoid the questions of his classmates.

He gets into the classroom and sits down at his desk, resting his head on the cold tabletop. He barely registers someone sitting next to him until he feels a hand on his back, rubbing soft circles into it.

Grif.

"You okay?" Simmons turns his head to look at him and mumbles out a 'no.' "She fail you again?" He nods.

"I couldn't go and swim..." Grif rests his head on the table as well, moving his hand to hold one of Simmons'.

"Was it the leg thing or the chest...?"

"Mostly the chest. I didn't even think about my leg... And there's the scars too..." Simmons buries his head in his arm and tries not to cry. He hated himself and all the things that were wrong with him. Grif squeezes his hand and lets him cry. He'd take Simmons out, just to get away from school and other people, but he'd only get mad at himself for missing class.

"Simmons, class is going to start soon." Simmons sniffles and nods, lifting his head up to wipe at his eyes. Grif continues to hold his hand, offering a smile when he looks at him.

"Good?"

"For a little bit." Simmons smiles softly, trying to hide how upset he is but Grif knows better.

~

Grif is laying in his bed, eating out of a bag of Cheetos and reading a porn magazine when he hears his phone ring. He drops the magazine and grabs it, answering it when he sees the caller I.D.

"Simmons?" He hears crying on the other end and drops the Cheetos from his hand, wiping it on his shirt.

"G-Grif..." Grif blinks a few times when he hears Simmons broken voice and rushes down the stairs to his car as he asks what happens. Simmons manages to get out the words "arm" and "cut" before he starts sobbing on the other end.

Grif drives all the way to Simmons' house, mumbling things into the phone to try and calm Simmons down. It helps only a little, but the time Grif gets there he's still crying. He rushes into his house and up the stairs to the bathroom, hanging up when he knocks on the door.

"Simmons, it's me." The door clicks and opens up a crack, and Grif pushes it open, seeing Simmons sitting on the edge of the bathtub, his back turned to him. The water is running, and Simmons shirt isn't on. That definitely wasn't good.

Grif grabs a washcloth and wets it before kicking off his shoes and sitting next to Simmons. He takes his arm slowly in his hand and starts to wipe at it, paying attention only to it.

"There's less than last time. I'm proud of you." Simmons shakes his head and removes a hand from his stomach, showing the cuts there as well. Grif stares at them before dipping the cloth into the water and wiping at them.

"What made it happen this time?" Grif asks quietly. He knows the answer when Simmons points to the ripped up binder in the sink, but he doesn't say anything in response to it. He only keeps wiping at the cuts.

"I don't want this body anymore..." Simmons mumbles a few minutes later. Grif nods and kisses his shoulder softly. "What the fuck did I do to deserve such a stupid body?"

"It's not stupid," Grif says. "It's just not yours." Simmons looks at him and frowns.

"I'm sorry." Grif shakes his head and smiles at him.

"You did nothing wrong, you know that. You're okay. You'll be okay. Come on. We should get you bandaged up." Grif glances at the binder in the sink. "And find your other binder."

Simmons lets Grif lead him to his bedroom. He finds bandages in his bedside drawer and cleans the cuts up before wrapping a bandage around his arm. Simmons does it himself when it comes to his stomach, only because he's more aware of Grif and his half-naked body and how Grif hasn't ever actually seen it before.

Grif busies himself with looking for Simmons' other binder to make him more comfortable while he handles himself and finds it in his sock drawer. He pulls it out and places it on the bed, along with a long sleeve shirt and a bra.

"I'm gonna have to order you a few more binders." Simmons nods his head and slips the bra and shirt on. He was at home; he wasn't allowed to wear the binder when he was there.

"You're gonna have to clean your sink up as well."

"Yeah... Grif, can you stay for the night? I really don't want to be alone," Simmons asks, staring up at him. His arms are over his chest even though he's all covered up now, mostly for comfort, Grif knows.

"Yeah, totally. I'll call Kai and tell her where I am. You should go clean up your sink." Simmons nods and heads back to the bathroom after grabbing a trash bag from a drawer in his room. He throws the binder in the bag and looks at the razors underneath.

He doesn't realize how long he'd been staring at them until Grif walks into the bathroom and puts a hand on his shoulder.

"We should throw them away." Simmons nods and tosses them in hesitantly, and when he does it, he heads straight to his room. Grif is confused for a moment and follows him, only to find Simmons rummaging through other drawers and tossing more razors in.

Grif watches him and when he comes to stand in front of him, he blinks a few times.

"I'm tired of always doing this. I-I want to get better. I know I hate my body b-but hurting it isn't going to make me like it better. Please get them out of here," Simmons explains, staring down at the ground.

Grif nods and takes the bag from him. He goes to his car and tosses it in so he can throw it away at his own house, locking the doors and heading back into Simmons' house. There was nothing wrong with being too careful.

Grif finds Simmons laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and his hands folded across his stomach. Grif climbs into the bed next to him and copies his position.

"You feel better?" Grif asks after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah. A little bit. Thanks for coming Grif," Simmons turns his head to look at him and Grif does the same. "I probably would've done a lot worse if you didn't come."

"You know that was all you, right dude? You called me and you were strong enough to stop. You should be proud of yourself." Simmons bites his lip and nods, shutting his eyes to keep himself from crying.

"Even if you didn't call me, I"m sure you would've stopped and you would've thrown away the razors and helped yourself. You're strong, Simmons. You and I both know that."

Simmons laughs for a minute and Grif has to smile at that. He hadn't heard a genuine laugh from him in a while.

"What are you laughing at?"

"You sound really inspirational right now and it- it doesn't sound like you at all," Grif starts laughing with him but presses a soft kiss to his lips to quiet them both.

"Shut up, nerd."

"Hey, there's Grif." Grif kisses him again when Simmons starts laughing at the look on his face.


End file.
